


you get up (you just do)

by DownCameTheRain



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Humor, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Peter gets kidnapped cause someone mistakes him for Deadpool, Protective Tony Stark, but nothing graphic, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownCameTheRain/pseuds/DownCameTheRain
Summary: Tony ignores his comment and presses the back of his hand against Peter's forehead, a useless action with the gauntlet on, but he doesn't move it away. “Great,” he says, “Cause this superhero bleeding to death on your couch right now? He's a kid.”And if it was some other time, Tony would feel smug by the way Wade goes very, very still.But, like he said, Peter's still bleeding out in front of him.





	you get up (you just do)

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write something with Tony being all protective of Peter and then being all annoyed with Wade and this is what happened. Just a fun little two-shot for no reason other than I really wanted to.

Tony raps his fist against the door and steps back, engaging the hands of his suit, the metal wrapping around his knuckles and over his nails.

 

“This is ridiculous,” he says. “Are we sure this is where the kid is?”

 

FRIDAY displays the location again on the inside of his glasses. “This is where the tracking in his suit says he is,” she informs him, and Tony sighs because of all the weird places he's had to rescue the kid from, this is by far the strangest one.

 

“How long should I give him before I blast the door down?” he asks.

 

“I am detecting movement inside,” FRIDAY says. Locks click as they come undone. Slowly, the door opens, half a face peeking through the crack to look at him before the door is thrown open and slams into the wall.

 

“Ooh! Honey, there's a superhero at the door. It must be my lucky day.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes and takes in the man in front of him. Wade Wilson. He's dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt stained with spots of copper. He claps his hands together.

 

“Are you here about the Avenger's invite? Because if you changed your mind, I'm totally still down. This whole 'X-Men' thing isn't working out so well and until Disney can get the reigns on Fox, I'm so available to –”

 

“Absolutely not,” Tony says. “Not a chance in hell. Now where is he?”

 

“I _am_ he,” says Wade. “As _you_ are he, as you are me, and we are all together. You like that? It's not copyright if I tell you it's a Beatles song. That's called citing your sources.”

 

“Do you ever stop talking?”

 

“Hmmm.” Wade pulls a face, considering this for a moment long enough to make Tony fire up the blaster on his palm and aim it at him in warning.

 

“ _Now_ , Wilson. Where's Spider-Man?”

 

“Oh! Spider-Man. Why didn't you just say so, silly?” Wade motions behind him. “He's in here. Come in, come in. Excuse the mess. I, you know, live here.”

 

Lowering his hand, Tony steps past him with a scowl, nudging an empty cup with the toe of his foot. The entire apartment is disgusting, garbage littered over the kitchen counter, over the carpet. The walls are cracked and peeling and there are holes that look suspiciously shaped like bullets.

 

He opens his mouth to make a comment about hiring a maid and then snaps it shut just as quick when he sees the small figure huddled on the couch.

 

“Shit.”

 

Against the fading brown material of the cushions, Peter's suit looks nearly neon. It's ripped, shredded through in places to reveal torn up skin. There's blood too. On the floor, on Peter's arms, his stomach, the lower half of his face where his mask has been pulled up to reveal his nose and mouth. Upon closer examination, he can see where Peter has webbed his wounds, the chunks of white turning pink.

 

“FRIDAY, call for medical,” he says, kneeling in front of Peter.

 

“On it.”

 

“Pe –” he starts, and breaks off when he remembers there's another person in the room and that the kid still has his secret identity intact. “Spidey, can you hear me?”

 

Peter doesn't move. The eyes of his suit are closed, a feature Tony designed to block out stimuli so Peter's senses wouldn't go into overdrive when his pupils took in too much light. For a brief second, Tony fears the mask has shut down because Peter is dead, but Peter's chest rises and falls as he breathes. So, unconscious then.

 

Tony turns on Wade. “What did you do?” he demands.

 

“ _I_ didn't do anything. I found him outside in the alley. Is he yours?”

 

“He's not a dog, moron.”

 

“Who am I to judge how someone identifies? People have kinks of all kinds. Do a quick Google search for collars and porn. I'm not saying I'm into that, but I'm not prepared to say I wasn't intrigued.”

 

Tony's anger flashes. “Can you be serious for one goddamn second of your life?” He touches a metal finger against the emblem on Peter's chest. FRIDAY sends a dangerous set of numbers flashing in front of his eyes.

 

“Listen, honeybuns,” says Wade. “Serious is my middle name. Wade Serious Watts. Wait, that's the wrong movie, isn't it?”

 

Tony ignores his comment and presses the back of his hand against Peter's forehead, a useless action with the gauntlet on, but he doesn't move it away. “Great,” he says, “Cause this superhero bleeding to death on your couch right now? He's a kid.”

 

And if it was some other time, Tony would feel smug by the way Wade goes very, very still.

 

But, like he said, Peter's still bleeding out in front of him.

 

“A kid?” Wade asks. “Like, a _kid_ kid?”

 

“No, like a robot kid.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Yes, a kid, dipshit. He's fifteen.”

 

Wade props himself on the arm of the recliner and drops a soaked, bloody rag onto Tony's arm, kicking it away when Tony flings it back at him. He tilts his head at Peter.

 

“Isn't there some superhero law? No superheroing before eighteen? Last time I checked Wiki, you're the one who's supposed to deal with stuff like that in this universe.”

 

Tony turns to glare at him. “Seriously? You're blaming me? In case you forgot, he's not on _my_ couch.”

 

“Maybe you should move closer and we'll try again. We'll both call him and see who he comes to.”

 

“Oh, Jesus –” There's not enough patience in the world for Tony to be able to deal with this right now. Not with the pale color of Peter's skin, the purple tint to his lips. He hasn't moved, not even once, and that makes Tony feel even more uneasy than he did before. “Be lucky you're not awake, kid,” he mutters. “Because I'm gonna murder this guy.”

 

Sirens are approaching fast. Wade hops to his feet and strolls across the living room and opens the front door. He says, “Boy Scouts taught me it's always best to be prepared.”

 

“Did they also teach you common decency?” Tony asks. “Why the hell is the kid here anyway?”

 

“Oh, that one's my bad. See, there's this chick who wants to kill me. Totally hot. And I mean _hot_. Like, dream about at night and touch yourse–”

 

“I got it,” Tony snaps.

 

“So she has a murderous boner for me and she thought the kid was me and took him by mistake. She might have done some light torturing, from what I can tell.”

 

“How in the world could anyone mistake the kid for you? All he has to do is open his mouth and the moment bullshit doesn't come spewing out everyone can see it.”

 

“Can't open your mouth if it's taped shut, Mr. Eisenstein. Besides –” Wade elbows the closet next to him and pulls out a dirty, worn suit that he dangles in front of him like a prize. “We have similar colors. And merchandise. I'm a knockoff version of him, in case you didn't know. Except my guy can't draw feet and his guy … well, we'll let you decide.”

 

Tony just blinks at him. “You're a moron.”

 

“Tried and true.”

 

The sirens sound from outside the building. Tony can hear voices downstairs, can hear an ambulance door open as medics scramble around to get everything they need. He disengages the suit and Peter shifts in response, a minute action, a moan escaping his lips.

 

“Kid?” Tony watches as Peter's fingers twitch. He touches his arm. “Kid, can you hear me?”

 

Peter rolls his head toward Tony's voice. The eyes of the suit squint open, allowing a small amount of light to come through. “M''ss'r … m'ss'r ...”

 

“You're all right,” Tony says. “Just take it easy.”

 

Peter hums lows and closes his eyes again. His throat works slowly, his voice sounding wrecked when he mumbles, “Ow.”

 

“Yeah, 'ow' seems like a good description,” says Tony. Behind him, Wade tosses his suit back into the closet. At Tony's pointed look, he shrugs and says, “What? Peter can have a secret identity and I can't?”

 

Tony freezes. “How the hell do you know his name?”

 

“I asked and he told me,” Wade says. “He wasn't unconscious the entire time. We had a lovely chat about the weather and politics and how to reattach limbs.”

 

At this, Peter lets out a miserable whimper and drags his palm over his mouth. “S-S'rry,” he whispers. “S'rry.”

 

Tony pushes his anger aside for the time being. “Your limbs are fine, kid. Don't listen to this genius back here.”

 

“Genius?” Wade throws a hand over his heart and nods proudly. “How'd you know I went to community college for a week? That business class really paid off.”

 

“No it didn't.”

 

A hacking cough tears its ways through Peter's chest, blood dribbling down his chin as Tony grips his shoulder and rolls him to his side to spit out the gunk blocking his airway. He gasps and coughs again and Tony tightens his hold.

 

“Paramedics,” someone calls from the doorway. “We got a call about – oh shit.” The medic's eyes go wide when they land on Peter's curled up form. He calls over his shoulder, “Bill, we're gonna need the backboard.”

 

“Two guesses to who's hurt,” Wade says. The medic brushes past him and kneels beside Tony.

 

“Is this … is this Spider-Man?”

 

“No,” Tony says. “It's a kid in a really convincing costume. And we're gonna keep it that way, understood?”

 

“Sure, sure.”

 

Another medic joins the first and Tony is forced away to give them space, lingering awkwardly at the backside of the couch as they work over Peter, fit a brace around his neck, put a breathing mask over his mouth and nose. They get him fitted onto the backboard and it's only after they've lifted him that Peter rasps out a painful, “Mr. Stark?” and looks around frantically for him.

 

Tony steps into his line of vision. “I'm here, kid.”

 

“I – I –” Peter's chest heaves with panic, like he's finally just realized the reality of the situation. He strains weakly against the straps holding him to the board. Tony lays a hand on his shoulder and wedges himself between the medics as they maneuver through the apartment.

 

“Relax,” Tony says. “We're gonna get you all fixed up.”

 

Peter tries in vain to shake his head and squirms again against his makeshift restraints, making Tony realize he was more than likely tied up during his ordeal and now wants nothing to do with not being able to move on his own.

 

“Don't break that,” says Wade to one of the medics. “It was a gift from a very special lady.”

 

“You look familiar to me,” the medic says, squinting at him.

 

“Do you work in the burn unit?”

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter murmurs, drawing Tony's attention back.

 

“You're okay, kid. Just breathe.”

 

On the way out the door, Tony meets Wade's look and scowls when Wade throws him a cheeky smile and waggles his fingers.

 

“I expect a follow-up,” Wade says. “I'm part of this now. We're like a modern superhero family. Look at us two dads taking care of a little spider together. The fanfic practically writes itself.”

 

“Don't count on it,” Tony says. “You're lucky I don't send some agents over here right now to rip this place apart and throw you in jail.”

 

Wade draws a heart in front of him and blows Tony a kiss, calling out, “You're welcome!” as they disappear into the hall.

 

Tony shakes his head.

 

“I hate that guy.”

 

Peter lets out a muffled laugh. His eyes slip closed, his lips parting under the mask.

 

“Kid? Stay with me,” Tony says, but Peter's entire body goes limp. He's unconscious before they even reach the bottom of the stairs.

 

 


End file.
